Finding peace in war — and the urgency to create change

For many, peace is a distant abstraction, defined simply by the absence of gunfire. But for Uruguayan photographer Ximena Borrazás, nearly four years on the frontlines of wars - from Ukraine to Lebanon to Syria and Ethiopia has revealed a deeper truth: "Real peace takes root not when bullets stop, but when people feel safe to rebuild their lives, when survivors are supported, and when their stories are acknowledged by the world."

From a marketing career in Montevideo to winning the Tom Stoddart Award for Excellence in 2024 for addressing displacement, famine and conflict-related sexual violence in Tigray, Ethiopia, Borrazás has moved beyond merely documenting war to becoming a vital voice for its survivors.

Through a lens that captures the resilience of communities rebuilding in the ruins, Borrazás proves that images can transcend language to spark policy change and mobilize global empathy.

"Today, my mission is clear: to be a speaker for those whose peace has been interrupted, whose wars continue in silence, and whose stories demand to be heard."

Here's her peace.

Finding peace in war

When people ask me what peace means, I used to think peace was simply the end of conflict, the silence after the last explosion. But after living through wars and their aftermath for nearly four years, my understanding of peace has completely changed.

I now know peace is not the absence of war; peace can be found within war, and war can persist even in times of so-called peace.

That realization led me to quit my job, leave behind stability, pack up my belongings, and move to Barcelona, Spain, to study photography. At first, it felt liberating, but still, I was searching for meaning.

My first documentary project began almost by accident. A homework assignment from my photography teacher to take portraits of strangers led me to meet a man experiencing homelessness in Barcelona's Gothic Quarter. I spent two years documenting the lives of people living on the streets, sharing their stories on social media. That project, The Ghosts of the Gothic Neighborhood, became a published book and reached unexpected places, even arriving in the hands of Pope Francis. This taught me that photography could humanize lives often unseen.

But it was when war erupted in Ukraine that everything shifted. I traveled to the Polish–Ukrainian border, spending a week with refugees, my first time near an active conflict. What struck me most was not only the destruction but the resilience, dignity, and life that persisted despite unimaginable loss. When I later entered Ukraine itself, I expected war to be destruction, fleeing civilians, and death, and it was, but I also witnessed moments of peace within the chaos: laughter between families sharing a meal, children learning to read in makeshift classrooms, and communities rebuilding in the ruins.

For me, these moments showed that peace is not only the absence of conflict, peace is the persistence of life, connection, and dignity even when everything around you is falling apart. In a war zone, people still celebrate birthdays, tend to gardens, hold weddings, and help neighbors. I felt a deeper sense of "home" there than I had ever felt in my comfortable life before the war. This paradox taught me that peace and war are not binary states but conditions lived and felt intimately by individuals.

Humanizing lives often unseen

As I documented Ukraine, I sold my first international report to National Geographic. That opened doors and led me to my next journey: Tigray, Ethiopia.

In Tigray, I traveled with a fellow photographer to document famine, displacement, and human suffering in a war that few outside the region knew about. We faced rejection from major media, "freelancers can't be sent to war zones," "it's not relevant enough," they said. But we went anyway. What we found was a community of survivors whose voices had not been heard.

In a displaced persons camp, a woman cried as she showed us medical documentation of conflict-related sexual violence (CRSV). "Please help us," she said. "You are our hope." That moment reframed my work. I realized: behind every statistic are human beings whose lives are shattered yet still yearning to be seen, to be heard, and to live with dignity.

I began documenting CRSV, and over three years in Ukraine and Tigray, I saw that war doesn't end with a ceasefire. The deepest wounds are often invisible; trauma, loss, and the struggle for justice continue long after the shooting stops. And peace, real peace, takes root not when bullets stop, but when people feel safe to rebuild their lives, when survivors are supported, and when their stories are acknowledged by the world.

In May 2025, part of my Tigray work was published in The Guardian as part of the Tom Stoddart Award for Excellence, which I won in 2024. The response was overwhelming: global media echoed the crisis, social media conversations surged, and international campaigns for justice began. Exhibitions of the work were shown in the British and Scottish Parliaments. This moment proved to me that images and stories can move hearts, spark dialogue, and mobilize action, transforming awareness into real, tangible momentum for change.

Peace was once a distant concept to me, an abstract ideal. But I found peace in the most unexpected places, in the courage of people living through conflict, in their unbroken spirits, in moments of hope against despair. I learned that peace and war are not opposites but parts of the same human experience. True peace begins when we choose to see one another, to tell our truths, and to act with empathy and urgency.

Ximena Borrazás is a UN staff member with the UN Resident Coordinator's Office in Ukraine. Read "Loss and Compassion in Ukraine: A Photographer's Account of the War" published by UN Humanitarian. Read her documentation of the conflict-related sexual violence in Tigray in The Guardian - "Rusted screws, metal spikes and plastic rubbish: the horrific sexual violence used against Tigray's women."

This story is part of My Peace, an editorial series from the UN's Hear Us. Act Now for a Peaceful World campaign that amplifies the voices of those working for peace in their communities.